Marina Netson, 27
Victor of the 91st Hunger Games, District 4
If Marina Netson knew one thing, it was that she would never get tired of mentoring for the Hunger Games. It was a good thing, too. Technically, she was one of five living female Victors from District 4. But Chelsea, Rebecca, and Briony were all getting up there in age and Annie was… well, Annie Cresta. One way or another, Marina could always count on whichever woman was supposed to mentor that year to give up their position to her, and she could not be more thrilled.
The air on the train felt crisp and somehow fresher than the air in District 4. The air in Marina's home District smelled of sunshine and salt, but always had the undertone of fish- of course. The air in all Capitol buildings, from the tribute training center to the government buildings, and including all of the trains, was brought in through the vents from outside and purified before it reached anyone's lungs.
Marina had a good feeling about the 100th year of the Hunger Games. Risso seemed more than capable of winning with very little guidance, and what Hudson seemed to lack in skill, he more than made up for in charisma. Formally, Marina and Roman decided that she would mentor Hudson, and he would mentor Risso. But ultimately, they were going to work together as a team to mentor both tributes to give them both the best chance of victory possible. That's how they always did it; a Victor from District 4 was a Victor from District 4 no matter whose tribute it was. Though technically, Caspian Yamato, the Victor of the 98th Games was Marina's tribute. But who liked to keep track of all of that?
All things considered, Marina was actually pleased that she had Hudson as a tribute rather than Risso. Sure, he seemed like a bit of an arrogant prick. But Marina was a better mentor than Roman. She was more logical, not as shortsighted. And if she wanted to continue being District 4's female mentor for long, it was in her best interests to give the male tributes the best odds at winning. If that meant that Risso would get the short end of the stick, then so be it.
One of Marina's favorite parts of being a mentor was watching the District kids experience true luxury for the first time. Sure, District 4 was one of the wealthier ones, but nothing in Panem compared to the Capitol. She could remember how she felt when she was a tribute on the train, and she loved watching that excitement in other kids' eyes. The way their faces lit up at the food, the decor, the music, it all reminded her of when she was Risso and Hudson's age and experiencing it all for the first time herself.
She was a bit nervous, though. They'd been on the train for less than an hour and it was already clear that Risso and Hudson weren't the best pair. District 4 did that a lot; they picked the strongest individual competitors without regard to how they would work as a team. Risso seemed strong and capable, a sort of independent person who didn't need to rely on others for her success. But if Risso did need help from someone, Hudson would probably be Marina's last guess. She was sure the boy was skilled since he passed all of the screening required to volunteer, but something about him rubbed her the wrong way. Maybe it was the way he looked at the women on the train (even the Avoxes!) or the way he sat sprawled out on the couch as if he owned the place. Regardless, the good feeling that she had about him at the Reaping was getting smaller and smaller by the minute.
Luminara Whytt, 16
District 6
All of Lumi's wildest fantasies of the Capitol were blown away just from her first ten minutes on the train. She was promised luxury by her mother and wow, did the train deliver. The carpet was at least three inches thick, and she could feel it underneath her feet even through her shoes. The air smelled faintly of strawberries and vanilla, and the tables in the main car were covered in pastries, fresh fruit, drinks, and flowers. It was perfect.
Well, almost perfect. The only thing Lumi could possibly ask for would be for her District partner to stop looking so sad. She understood that he didn't want to be chosen, but what was done was done. Couldn't he at least try to make the best of it?
"We've still got another two hours or so until the rest of the Reapings air," Alexus offered. "Did you guys want to try to get to know each other? Or maybe just have something small to eat?"
"I'd love to get to know everyone!" Lumi beamed. "I think it'll make the next week a lot nicer if we all knew each other a little better."
She paused for some reception but got very little. Alexus gave her a smile that seemed forced, Chevvy pretended she didn't exist, and Carver, the other mentor, rolled his eyes in the least subtle way that Lumi had ever seen. She cleared her throat.
"So… Hi, my name is Luminara but you can call me Lumi," she said. "Um. I'm an only child and my mom works in the Capitol sometimes. She's a director for… It doesn't matter. So it's usually just me and my dad."
Chevvy finally met Lumi's eye. "I haven't seen you at school," he said, cocking his head to the side.
Lumi blushed. "I go to a private school," she said, her statement coming out sounding almost like a question. "My parents thought it would be best for me. Smaller classes, you know."
"I could never," Chevvy said. He avoided eye contact, electing instead to pick at a hangnail. "No way we could afford it. 'Specially since I have three younger siblings."
Lumi stopped in her tracks. She was well aware of the privilege that she and her family had, and she tried her best to use that privilege to help her friends. But sometimes, it was easy for her to forget how different the rest of the District lived compared to her. Lumi didn't know what it felt like to be hungry. She didn't know what it felt like to be without running water, or heat, or lights. But what she did know was that there were more than a few families in her District that never got three meals a day or hot baths. Clearly Chevvy was one of them.
"It's not all it's cracked up to be." She was trying desperately to find common ground with him, and she knew she was failing. Still, she didn't want him getting the wrong idea about her. "A lot of the kids are super stuck up and… They don't really want to be friends for the right reasons."
That wasn't quite the truth. Lumi had plenty of genuine friends that she had had since she was little. But she did know that there were people at her school whose friendship was all political. She hoped that someday they would get to be happy.
She realized that she should probably stop talking about herself, and decided to turn the conversation towards her District partner.
"You must have friends, right?" she asked. "Can you tell me about them?"
"Sure," Chevvy said. He took a deep breath. Was this going to be hard for him? "My best friends are Tiberius, Oto, and Aero. We write poetry and stuff together. Oto likes to sing. He's pretty good. My girlfriend, Torque… She's the best person I know. She's really sick. They're saying she doesn't have much time left. I was hoping I could spend her last couple of weeks with her, but now I'm here… Excuse me."
With that, Chevvy got up from the table and disappeared into another car, leaving Lumi, Alexus, and Carver in stunned silence in the dining car.
"Damn, that's rough," Carver said, breaking his silence with a chuckle. He reached across the table and poured himself a glass of something Lumi assumed was alcoholic. She didn't know; she had never touched it before. "Thanks for sticking me with the sob story, Lex. He'll do great with the audience."
Sob story? Did the people in the Capitol really like the tragic tributes? Lumi never did. She felt bad about it sometimes, but she never found herself rooting for the tributes that she didn't think stood a chance. She didn't love the ruthless tributes from 1, 2, and 4 who played the Games like it was their job, but she lived for a strong underdog. And she herself was just that.
"No need to be a dick about it," Alexus said in a huff. Lumi was shocked to hear her swear. "Let's change the subject. Luminara- er, Lumi. Why did you volunteer anyway? You don't see that often in 6. Did you know that girl?"
"No," Lumi said. "I just really wanted to see the Capitol someday. I've been planning on volunteering since I was 12. I was originally going to wait until I was 18, but I couldn't pass up on the opportunity to be in the Capitol during a Quarter Quell."
"You don't think there was a better way of getting to the Capitol?" Carver asked, taking a deep sip from his drink. He paused, letting it slide down his throat, and Lumi fought the urge to gag. "You said your mom had a job out there. You couldn't just do that?"
"I didn't want to follow in my mom's footsteps. I wanted to be my own person with my own identity. None of the other tributes or the mentors or sponsors or anyone is ever going to compare me to my mother. But if I got a business job out here? Just call me Saira."
The mentors didn't seem completely pleased with Lumi's explanation, and she couldn't really figure out why. Wouldn't at least Alexus be happy to have a tribute with an interesting story to tell? And no offense to Chevvy, but shouldn't she be happy to be mentoring the tribute that actually stood a chance? Carver was right; Chevvy's sob story would give him a couple of pity points. But it was no secret that everyone in the Capitol wanted to be on the winning team. Luminara was determined for that to be her.
Ramsey Newman, 15
District 3
Ramsey didn't think it was possible for him to be more anxious than he was hearing his name squawked in a Capitol dialect, but every second following that proved him wrong. First, the Capitol train was extremely fancy. He felt way out of place among the lit candles and crystal chandeliers. But the real problems came when he and the rest of the people with him decided to sit down and watch the recap of the Reapings from each District.
District 1 was even more terrifying than it usually was. Ramsey was expecting a petite blonde girl, and a young man more focused on looking strong than on acting smart. Instead, he got Amos de la Renta and Chardonnay Salvatore; a tall, lean man who still somehow had muscles the size of his head, and a woman who looked like she would rip out Ramsey's trachea and enjoy every second of it. Ramsey made sure to write their names down on the pad of paper Pierre had given him.
The tributes in District 2 were also scary, but more in the way that Ramsey had expected from District 1. The girl, Hera, was one of the most beautiful girls Ramsey had ever seen. The way that the sun glinted off her fiery red hair, and her pillowy lips carefully outlined in bright lipstick… Ramsey had to remind himself that she was a trained killer that would snap him in half without a second thought. Castor was scarier in a more straightforward way. He was tall- taller than Amos, but with the same sort of "strong without being buff" type of look. He wrote both of their names down as well.
Ramsey cringed as he watched his own Reaping over again from an outside perspective. He knew that he was going to look like a mess, but he wasn't prepared for just how pitiful he looked, with tears threatening to make a great escape from his eyes. Even little Orabella looked scarier than him, and she was a full six inches shorter than him. She had murder in her eyes.
District 4 was scary, once again. Risso seemed a lot like Chardonnay, in the way that she seemed focused on nothing more than the task at hand. In this case, the task at hand was killing off the competitors, and Ramsey believed in her. Hudson was probably physically the scariest one Ramsey had seen all day. He had a solid eight inches on Risso, and he was muscular, more so than Amos or Castor. He seemed arrogant, but Ramsey got the feeling that it was justified. The way they both eagerly ran forward to volunteer sent shivers down his spine. Once again, he wrote down both tributes' names.
"That's going to be a really strong alliance," Pierre said. Ramsey had forgotten he was there. "Watch out for them all."
The next District seemed to lift at least a small weight off of Ramsey's shoulders. For the first time, he wasn't left utterly terrified of both of the tributes before him. The boy, Teo, still seemed like he could absolutely beat Ramsey in a fight, but his District partner Zezza seemed like there was something just a bit off about her. She was small and her head was clearly in the clouds. He hated to think it, but he got the feeling that she would be an easy kill.
Ramsey didn't expect to be afraid of the tributes from 6, and in a way, he wasn't. The girl volunteered, but he couldn't really figure out why. She seemed confident and all, but why would a kid from District 6 volunteer? He was inclined to think that she needed the money, but she seemed well off. He made a note of her. Ramsey also didn't quite know how to feel about the boy. He was a pretty big guy, comparable to Hudson, but he seemed less rough around the edges. Ramsey figured he probably got a lot of girls.
District 7 was boring. The girl was pretty, but not in a way that he thought a lot of people would notice. She was more understated. The boy had a weak smile on his face as he walked up to the stage, but it was clearly just a mask. He was bigger and probably stronger than Ramsey, but overall, nothing really to worry about.
District 8 was even less of a threat than 7. Both tributes were smaller than Ramsey and seemed even more scared than him. The girl was also pretty, but in the same way as the girl from 7 was. The boy in this District was the first tribute that actually gave Ramsey a sense of peace since he was the only one that he knew for sure that he could beat in a fight.
There was another mixed bag from District 9. The guy was on the bigger side and walked up with a hint of a smile, which might be worrying if he wasn't Reaped. Ramsey knew that he should probably keep an eye on this one. The girl seemed angry, but that was definitely warranted, and it didn't really make her look intimidating.
District 10 left Ramsey with a weird taste in his mouth. The girl was one of the most normal tributes of the day; the only thing of notice was that she was pretty tall. The boy, however, Ramsey could tell that the audience would eat up. He was… flamboyant, to say the least. He took the opportunity that he had to talk directly into the microphone to the camera, which Ramsey found extremely odd.
District 11 was a move right back to terrifying. Clementina, though small, seemed hostile, and like someone whose bad side he would not want to be on. Something about her struck him as someone to not be messed with. Reese was somehow even scarier, as he volunteered. It wasn't like Luminara who volunteered and Ramsey couldn't figure out why. Reese walked up to the stage with the confidence of someone who had planned this out for a long time.
Ramsey was thankful that District 12 ended on a lighter note. The girl ran up to the stage shaking and nearly crying, and immediately ran to one of the mentors sitting on the stage. Ramsey couldn't place which Victor she was. The boy seemed pretty strong, but nothing really to marvel at.
Chardonnay
Amos
Hera!
Castor
Risso
HUDSON
Luminara…
Arius?
Clementina
Reese
Amos de la Renta, 18
District 1
A part of Amos hated to admit it, but he was having more fun on the train to the Capitol than he had had in a long time- too long to remember. He knew that he would enjoy his time with Donnie. He had trained alongside her for years, and she was his best friend. But what he wasn't expecting was how much fun he would have with the rest of his team. Cashmere Gilmore and Augustus Braun were mentoring that year, and as the Victors of the 64th and 67th Hunger Games respectively, they were some of the most iconic Victors to come out of District 1 to date. That was until either he or Donnie won in three weeks.
Three weeks. In just three short weeks, Amos's life would be changed forever. Regardless of if he won or died, everything would be different. Hopefully, it would be because he was being crowned the Victor of the 100th Hunger Games. Though disappointingly lacking a twist, it was still the fourth Quarter Quell, and Amos's name would go down in history. Nobody forgot the names of the three Quarter Quell Victors that Panem saw before him.
Sostrate Argos, District 2, 25th Hunger Games.
Haymitch Abernathy, District 12, 50th Hunger Games.
Kepheus Goldwin, District 9, 75th Hunger Games.
Amos de la Renta, District 1, 100th Hunger Games.
At least, that's how he hoped it would go. If Amos emerged victorious, he would finally get his own identity. He loved his family, really, he did, but he hoped that if he won he would be able to put some distance between himself and them and finally discover his sense of self. All his life, Amos had felt like nothing but Arlo's youngest son, the third brother of AJ and Adrian. There was not much he wouldn't give to just be Amos de la Renta.
Amos was excited to finally get to be his own person. But he couldn't help but worry about who he really was. All his life, whatever identity he had of his own was overshadowed by the rest of his family. If he wasn't a de la Renta, if he was just Amos… who was he?
"What do you think of the others?" Amos flinched as Donnie's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He met her deep brown eyes, sparkling with excitement and anticipation. She was almost buzzing, and he wondered if he seemed as effervescent as she did.
"I liked Castor," he said. "From Two. What about you?"
"I'm feeling the girl from Four," Donnie responded. "Risso? She seemed pretty no-nonsense. I liked that."
"No-nonsense?" Amos asked. He suppressed a chuckle as he raised an eyebrow. "How could you possibly pick up on that already? She barely spoke."
"It's just a feeling, Momo!" she protested, giving him a light punch on the arm. Amos smiled at the use of the stupid nickname she had given him years ago. No one else was allowed to call him that, and if they tried, Donnie wouldn't hesitate to break an arm. He couldn't express just how happy he was to be doing this with his best friend. He didn't want to think about what he would be doing if anyone else was his District partner.
"Alright, kiddos," Augustus said. "You ready for dinner?"
"I know you didn't just call us 'kiddos,'" Amos protested.
"We're 18!" Donnie added. "18 is an adult!"
"If you're young enough to be Reaped, you're still a kid," Cashmere said. "Come on. Eat."
Growing up in an upper-class family in District 1 with a stay-at-home mom, Amos had had his share of decent food. Still, there was no way for him to be prepared for the absolute feast placed in front of him on the train. His eyes nearly popped out of his head as he stared at the platters and bowls of bread and cheese, different fruits, buttery seafood and vegetables, and pasta shapes he didn't even know existed. Even Donnie, who Amos knew was usually careful about the food she ate, looked ready to drool.
As Amos helped himself to plate after plate of food, trying his best to taste absolutely everything, he noticed that his glass was always full, no matter how much he drank. He looked around, his head feeling slightly fuzzy from the sweet pink wine he had been drinking. His eyes landed on a few older people in black clothes and aprons who seemed to blend right into the walls.
"Must not be a bad gig," he said to Donnie, gesturing to the servants. "Probably pretty fun to get to meet the tributes every year, and they probably get to eat all the leftover food."
Donnie nodded and opened her mouth as if to say something before Cashmere cut her off.
"They didn't choose to be here," Cashmere said, avoiding eye contact. "And they don't eat what you eat. You're tributes. They're traitors."
"Traitors-" Once again, Donnie was cut off, this time by Augustus.
"That's enough," he said. "Just ignore them."
Traitors. Amos had learned the word in regular school before he started training when they learned about the Dark Days of Panem. Were there still traitors today? Who would want to rebel now, especially Capitol citizens?
For the rest of the night, Amos tried his best to listen to Augustus and ignore the servants. But something wasn't sitting right with him, and he couldn't stop glancing over at them, trying in vain to make eye contact. He couldn't tell if he was imagining it or if he was just drunk, but it felt like they were asking for his help.
Tohias Luminoso, 18
District 10
All his life, Tohias had never met anyone quite like him. He was always the most outgoing person in the room, and he could make people laugh in a way that he had never known anyone else to do. All that changed the second he left District 10 and became acquainted with his Hunger Games escort, Vernon "The Cobra" Gravedigger. Tohias knew plenty of other gay people, but District 10 wasn't the best place to be like him. It was full of a lot of people just like his dad; people who claimed to support the gay community until they were too loud, too happy, too proud of who they were. Too much like Tohias. "Too gay."
The Cobra didn't have any of these reservations that had been instilled into Tohias practically since birth. He wore a pristine white cowboy hat, a tan fringed jacket, and snakeskin boots, clearly an homage to District 10, though no one in the District actually wore anything like that. He seemed to be dressed as a combination of the Capitol and District 10, while simultaneously not fitting into either group. Tohias couldn't tell if he was trying to please them both, or if he was just so utterly comfortable in his own skin that it didn't matter what he wore.
Also completely comfortable in their own skin was Tohias's District partner, Celina Cisco. He hadn't met her before- District 10 was pretty big- but he got the feeling that she was a bit strange, but unapologetically so. He liked to think that that was how people perceived him as well. Celina was the type of person to twirl a giant mouthful of noodles around her fork rather than break even one in half, then encourage everyone else at the table to watch as she tried (and succeeded) to eat it all in one bite.
Tohias was given the opportunity to get to know his District partner and possible future ally once dinner was over. All three adults in their group had disappeared; The Cobra was taking a bath, Tohias's mentor Rusty went to work on an article that he was writing for a magazine, and Celina's mentor Belinda went directly to bed as soon as the sun went down. This left the two tributes sitting on opposite ends of a white leather couch with their feet tucked under them while they made what Tohias hoped was not awkward small talk.
"Favorite subject in school?" Celina asked him, as she licked the frosting off of a cupcake.
"Literature and poetry," Tohias responded. "I like trying to figure out what people meant while they were writing. What about you?"
"Biology."
Celina went on to tell him all about her school experience; how she had left regular school to enroll in a special program for kids gifted in science and mathematics. She beamed as she told him about how hard she had worked to get accepted into the program, and how she was the only girl in the program to be granted an apprenticeship with a real genetic engineer. Tohias had a certain disdain for geneticists. They altered animals to do things they weren't meant to do; horses that could hold three times their own weight, cows who could produce milk year-round, and chickens who laid eggs practically around the clock. It helped business, sure, but it was unnatural. Not to mention, it put smaller farms like Tohias's family's at risk. They could never afford these super animals, so how were they supposed to compete with the ranches that could? Still, he had no choice but to marvel at her intellect. He was always good at reading people, but he couldn't fathom math or science or anything that had just one specific correct answer.
"What about the Games?" he offered. "Are you thinking strategy? Alliances?"
"Probably…" Celina trailed off. It was clear she had more to say, but something was stopping her. He wished she could just read his mind so he wouldn't have to come right out and say it.
"I mean, I know it's pretty early, but would you be willing to maybe team up?" he asked. "You know, the two of us?"
"Tohias, listen…" she took a breath, and her eyes flitted to the ground. He was vaguely aware of the scene changing around him out the window from the corner of his eye. "You seem nice, but I just… I just have a hard time trusting men."
He was bewildered and raised his eyebrows in response. "Even someone like me? I mean, what could I possibly-"
"Even you. Even Rusty. Even the scrawny kid from District 8. All men. I've just been hurt too many times before."
"Could I maybe try to make you trust me? What would it take?"
"I don't know, Tohias. You're welcome to try, but you're probably better off just finding a different group. It's not personal."
The two sat in silence for a moment while Celina picked at the cupcake in her hand, before she got up without a word and vanished, leaving Tohias to think about her words. He knew that a lot of girls didn't like being around men- hell, he had met enough of Yaluna's ex-boyfriends to know that men could be shitty to women. But he always thought that he was easily identifiable as different. He thought that he could be trusted. He supposed he thought wrong.
With a sigh, Tohias leaned against the back of the sofa and looked out the window again. They had finally made it out of the sprawling ranch territories of District 10, and he could see mountains in the distance. They'd be in the Capitol by morning, and he had the feeling that that was when things would really start to feel different. That was when he would really begin to feel like a tribute.
Ophelia Briar, 17
District 7
Ophelia had always preferred to bathe at night. She found that even if she hadn't done anything particularly strenuous that day, letting the day's events wash off of her helped her to destress and wind down before reading a chapter of a book and getting into bed.
Being a tribute in the Hunger Games was no exception. As soon as she and her District partner finished their dinner, she longed to stand in the cold tiled bathroom and let the hot water wash over her as she cried the day away, including that last conversation she had had with Oleander in the Justice Building, him down on one knee staring up at her with big green eyes filled with tears as he held a silver ring with a dainty pink stone.
"Ophelia, since this is the last time we're ever going to see each other, I just… I'd never forgive myself if I didn't ask."
"The last time… You don't think I have a chance?"
"That's not what I mean, I just- The Hunger Games, it's-"
"You don't believe in me."
"Ophelia, I-"
"I can't take that, Ollie, I'm sorry. Can you please get out? I want to be with my family."
Although she had to wait a couple of hours, 11:00 did finally come around, and Kingsley and Johanna released their tributes to settle down for the night. Ophelia liked to be in bed by 9:00 most nights, but she supposed that that was just one of the things she would have to give up now that she was considered property of the Capitol.
Alone in her bed car on the train, Ophelia stared at the racks of pajamas before her. She knew that she would need to be as comfortable as possible if she wanted any hope of sleeping through the night. After a few moments of consideration, she decided on a three-piece set in light pink silk with shorts, a camisole, and a robe that tied at the side. Her favorite color. She put on the pajamas then stepped into her private bathroom to shower.
After a few moments of fiddling with levers, knobs, and buttons, it became abundantly clear that Ophelia would not be able to get the water running. She knew that operating a shower in the Capitol would be significantly more difficult than simply filling the tub with well water back in District 7, but she didn't anticipate being completely helpless. She needed to ask for help. Although Everett was her District partner and Kingsley was her mentor, she really didn't want to ask them. As soon as she thought about it, she heard her mother's voice ringing in her ears.
"Ophelia Jane Briar, you are not to have boys in your bedroom."
She didn't know if she felt comfortable asking an Avox for help- it felt exploitative- and she knew that if she tried her escort, she would just be met with contempt. So with a deep breath, Ophelia left her room and padded down the hall to Johanna Mason. Once she reached the door, she knocked softly, not wanting to be a disturbance. After a few seconds, there was no response, so she took a deep breath and knocked again, loud enough to startle herself.
"What!" Johanna screamed.
Another deep breath.
"It's Ophelia. I'm having trouble with my shower and I-"
"Figure it out!" Ophelia heard something break. "Go away!"
So much for that.
Ophelia paused, considering her next move. She didn't think that her mother would approve of any of her remaining choices. Who would she pick? A slave, a man, or a Capitolite? She had to accept that no matter what she did now, her mom would be disappointed in her. She just had to figure out the best option. She immediately ruled out an Avox and her escort, leaving her with Kingsley and Everett. From there, it didn't take long for her to decide on Kingsley. Everett was her age. Kingsley was her mother's.
She continued down the hallway past Johanna's room to Kingsley's. She knocked gently, and after hearing some shuffling inside, Kingsley opened the door, wearing a rumpled green T-shirt that seemed one day at the gym away from bursting at the seams around his arms. Immediately, his brows furrowed in concern and he met Ophelia's eyes.
"Is everything okay?" he asked. "What's going on?"
She felt her face flush and averted her eyes to the ground. She was bothering him with something stupid, and here he was being worried that something was seriously wrong.
"Everything's fine," she said, staring at her slippers. "I'm just having some trouble getting my shower started. I tried Johanna but she-"
"Screamed at you to leave her alone and let her sleep?" Ophelia nodded, and Kingsley grinned. "Yeah, that sounds like her. I'll help you out. These Capitol appliances are nothing to mess with."
She sighed in relief, and the two walked back to Ophelia's room and into the bathroom. She was sure to leave her bedroom and bathroom doors open, still worried about what her mother might say if she were there.
She's not here, Ophelia. You're not going to get in trouble for needing help with your shower.
Kingsley stepped into the shower and headed for the controls, and Ophelia followed behind so that she could see what to do for next time. She really didn't want to have to repeat this whole embarrassing process. He asked her how hot she wanted her shower and she asked him to make it as hot as it would possibly go. He pressed a few buttons and pulled a lever, then without warning, scalding hot water came rushing out of the showerhead, as well as the jets on the walls of the shower.
In the blink of an eye, Ophelia and Kingsley were both drenched from head to toe, and steam began to fill the bathroom. Once she regained her bearings, she immediately tightened her robe around her body and covered her head. She looked up to see Kingsley looking at her, not quite seeming all there. He quickly noticed her looking back at him, blinked once, and shook his head softly. His green T-shirt was clinging to his torso and turning sheer in the water, and Ophelia found herself transfixed by the outlines of his muscles under the shirt.
Without any further hesitation, Kingsley stepped out of the shower and gave Ophelia a quick duck of the head before meeting her eyes again.
"Have a good night," he said, pulling the wet fabric of his shirt away from his skin.
"Thank you," Ophelia managed.
And with that, he ducked out of the room, closing the door softly and leaving Ophelia alone.
Hera Cambridge, 18
District 2
Hera always hated the night. She felt vulnerable in darkness, as if the rest of the world could see her but she couldn't look back. Everything bad that ever happened to her happened in the middle of the night, and she couldn't help but feel like the night would only ever bring more trouble for her.
Unsurprisingly, the bad dreams found Hera at night as well. As if it wasn't bad enough experiencing her past as it happened, they constantly plagued her dreams, the only place where she couldn't control her own thoughts. She relived it almost every night as soon as she closed her eyes and allowed the darkness to swallow her whole.
She was there again, on the dimly lit streets of District 2. She knew it was just a dream, just a dream, just a dream, but she could never find the strength to wake herself up. Once again, she would just need to lie there and let it happen. At this point, she was shocked she hadn't gotten used to it. But no matter how many times she watched the same scene play out, she still felt like there were two big hands holding her down and some invisible force keeping her eyes open.
Physically, she was lying in bed on a train to the Capitol. She had volunteered for the 100th Hunger Games, just like she always planned. Mentally, she was walking home from a party at Athena Lockley's house. She swore up and down that she would be safe walking home alone. She didn't want to pull someone away from the party to walk her home.
Dumb little bitch. Too proud to ask for help, now look at what you did.
She should have known better. She read the news, and of course, she listened to gossip. She wasn't an idiot. She knew what had happened to Adrienne, to Tia, to Genesis, to Esme, to fourteen other girls around Hera's age in the past couple of months. Kidnapped. Abducted. Taken away, never to be seen again.
Trafficked.
Everyone knew it was happening, but who could stop it? The Mayor couldn't do anything without publicly admitting that there was a problem in his administration. The Peacekeepers wouldn't do anything because they were as big a part of it as any other paying customer and the ones that weren't were paid off to keep quiet.
It happened almost as soon as she stepped into the darkest alley closest to home. A strong pair of arms grabbed her from behind and stuffed a piece of cloth into her mouth, stopping her scream before it even happened. Still, Hera struggled, trying in vain to reach the switchblade she kept in her bra for just such an occasion and desperately trying to make as much noise as possible.
"Aw, don't cry, Princess," a gruff man's voice whispered in her ear. "Pretty little thing like you, they'll love you."
Princess. Hera hated that. It was infantilizing, as if being a pretty girl from a wealthy family meant that she wasn't allowed to struggle as any human would. Better never complain, though, or you're ungrateful for your privilege.
She counted three men around her and knew that even if she could temporarily take the one holding her out, one of the others would quickly replace him. Still, she had to try. She took a deep breath in through the nose then quickly kicked her leg up behind her. She could feel the heel of her Stiletto hit the man's thigh, and he grunted in pain, loosening his grip on her just enough while he evaluated the wound. She saw the opportunity and jumped on it, wiggling her way out of his arms and taking the gag out of her mouth.
"Help!" she screamed. "Someone help me!"
Hera had always mocked the mandatory hand-to-hand combat lessons at the Academy, but in that moment, she was grateful for it. The second of the men tried to grab her again, but she was prepared that time and delivered a swift knee to his groin. While he was doubled over, the third man ran towards her. Hera dragged her long, red-polished nails across his face, but it wasn't enough to stop him. He punched her hard in the face, and she quickly felt blood dripping down her face. She used her left hand to try to stop the flow of blood, but with only one hand against three men bigger than her, she didn't like her odds.
Out of nowhere, she heard a grunt, then a thud behind her. She turned around and saw the first man, the one that grabbed her, lying on the ground unconscious, and her father standing over him with a bat.
"Hera, go home," her dad said.
"No, I want to help you," she pleaded, pulling her knife out. "Please, I want to help."
"I'm not going to tell you again!" he said, almost screaming. "Let me handle this. Go!"
Hera ran home to her mother faster than she'd ever run in her life. The two waited up all night, and over the course of a few hours, her mother went from nervous to sad to mad at Hera in the time that it took her to drain a half-gallon of liquor.
"You know if you hadn't gone to that fucking party your dad wouldn't have had to save your ass, right?"
"I know."
That night, it wasn't Hera who didn't come home, never to be seen again. A pair of Peacekeepers came to their door at dawn, helmets under their arms, to let Hera's mother know that they had found her husband's body several blocks from the home, bloody and bruised beside a mangled piece of wood. As soon as the Peacekeepers were gone, Hera's mother screamed and threw the empty bottle at the wall, narrowly missing Hera's head.
"Get out of my fucking house!" she screamed. "I don't want to see you again! Get out!"
"I- What?" Hera's eyes brimmed with tears.
"What, did I hurt your feelings?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcastic sympathy. "I said get out!"
Hera woke up screaming, just like she always did. Her face and pillow were soaking wet, and she couldn't tell if it was sweat, tears, or a combination of the two. More than once, it was a nosebleed. It didn't take long before her door swung open- tributes were evidently not allowed the privilege of having a lock on their door- and a concerned male voice was asking if she was okay. She didn't take the time or energy to look over to the door to see if it was Castor, Cato, or someone else she hadn't accounted for before screaming in response.
"Leave me alone! Get out!"
Howdy. This is going to be roughly the length of each chapter until the beginning of the Games. I wanted to make sure each tribute was heard from twice between their introductions and the bloodbath as well as introduce each mentor (including the four that got prologues- Cato, Johanna, Haymitch, Wiress- and this was the best way I could set it up without letting the plot drag. Here's the chapter breakdown from here to the bloodbath:
18. Train Rides (6 tributes, 1 mentor)
19. Tribute Parade (6 tributes, 1 mentor)
20. Training Day 1 (6 tributes, 1 mentor)
21. Training Day 2 (6 tributes, 1 mentor)
22. Training Day 3 (6 tributes, 1 mentor)
23. Private Sessions (1 mentor, Head Gamemaker)
24. Interview Prep/Free Time (6 tributes, 1 mentor)
25. Interviews (6 tributes, 1 mentor)
26. Morning of/Launch (6 tributes)
27. Bloodbath (POVs TBD)
Here are the questions if you care to answer them, and remember to vote on the poll if you haven't already.
1. Which section of this chapter was your favorite and why?
2. Did this chapter change how you feel about any of the characters? For better or for worse?
3. Who are you most excited to hear from next?
4. Any predictions?
